


under the table

by zigsexual (anythingbutloud)



Series: the driam vignettes [4]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: M/M, a metric fuckton of angst, boys crying, one-sided olivia/liam, you know the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutloud/pseuds/zigsexual
Summary: leo has news that comes with consequences no one is ready for. olivia pays a visit.





	under the table

**Author's Note:**

> it’s about to get sad as fuck im sorry….. actually no im not this is driam u know what u signed up for

He’s not there when it happens, but he feels the aftershocks only minutes later, sitting in his room as his phone lights up with message after message.

_He just finalized it._

_Can I call you?_

_Nevermind, they need me in the meeting now._

_Please don’t go to sleep yet._

He can’t say it’s a surprise. No one can, not if they’d been paying the slightest bit of attention; Leo had been flirting with this idea for years, and the offhand comments they’d all just brushed off as part of his personality had apparently not been so offhand after all.

Still, Drake fumes, how could he do this to them? How could he do this to _Liam_?

Liam had been locked away in the central rooms of the palace for days now while documents were signed and government officials argued about course of action. As if there was any doubt what would happen: the ascension would go to Liam. Upon the death or resignation of his father, he would be the king.

The _king_. Even the word feels surreal. Every time he remembers, Drake’s stomach drops all over again. Were they stupid for getting complacent? For making plans and spending weekends at Applewood, pretending there was a future with them at the center? Maybe it was all just a fallacy they’d fallen into believing, both drunk on the newness of Them, still naively assuming that love conquers all.

He tells himself they’ll be okay. It’s ridiculous to assume that being with Liam — an honest to god _prince_ — would be without its own unique challenges. It’s been years of the two of them at bat against the world; they know this road, they’ve been down it before, at least in some fashion. They love each other. People who love each other make it work.

He waits in Liam’s bed until two in the morning, eyelids heavy even as his heart is racing. When the door finally opens, he jolts out of a half-sleep, blinking rapidly as Liam tries to shut the door as gently as possible.

“M’awake,” he calls out, rubbing his eyes and squinting in the direction of Liam’s shadow in the doorway. “How are you doing?”

Liam doesn’t answer right away, moving towards his dresser instead and undoing his cufflinks, shrugging off his jacket. Drake watches his figure in the dimly lit room, the tension in his shoulders as he unbuttons his shirt. He looks like one of the king’s guard when he stands like that, back ramrod straight and posture stiff.

When he finally climbs into bed next to Drake, suit gone, he looks much more like the boy he should be, soft and young and needy. Drake reaches his arm around Liam’s shoulders, and Liam curls in against his side with a shallow sigh.

“Let’s run away,” he says quietly, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Drake strokes his fingers through Liam’s hair, resting his chin atop his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do this, Drake.”

“You can. I wish you didn’t have to, but I know you can. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“Only with you,” Liam’s voice cracks, and he presses his eyes shut. “I can’t… I won’t be able to without you.”

“I’m right here, I promise.”

Liam shakes his head slightly, eyes still closed. “I don’t know, I don’t know…”

“Shh,” Drake leans down to kiss the top of his head, fingers still combing gently through his hair. “Don’t let it get in your head. Not here. This is just for us, okay?”

In answer, Liam wraps an arm around Drake’s waist, pulling him closer and resting his head on his chest, breathing out slowly. The day has taken its toll on him, body drained of energy, and it’s not long before his breathing slows. Drake isn’t far behind.

When he wakes in the morning, they’re in the same position: Liam curled around him like a lifeline as the sun comes in through the gaps in the curtains. Liam doesn’t even look peaceful in sleep; he’s frowning, his brow furrowed against some unwanted dream. Drake longs to crawl into his mind and fight it off.

Instead he lays there, Liam nestled up against him, slowly rubbing circles into the knots in his back, trying to alleviate any part of the pain that he can. “I love you,” he whispers, looking down at Liam’s face, “I love you.”

“Mmm,” Liam mumbles, finally blinking up at him. His eyes are ringed with red. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Drake breathes, “G’morning.”

When Liam looks at him like that, he could almost forget the night before.

“Mine,” Liam says, resting his head back down over Drake’s heart, fingers curling into his side.

“Do you want breakfast?” Drake ventures. “I could go get something from the kitchens.”

“I want you to never leave this room.”

“Well, that’s an easy one.”

Liam doesn’t laugh, instead hooking one leg around Drake’s under the covers, hugging him tighter. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you,” Drake obliges, “You’re my whole world, Liam. I’ll never stop loving you.”

Liam sighs quietly. “Tell me again.”

Drake sits up, Liam lifting his head to look up at him. He takes Liam’s face in his hands. “You’re stupid. I love you so much, you idiot prince. It’s embarrassing how much I love you. I wouldn’t trade these last few years for anything.”

He pulls Liam in close, kissing him deep, tongue against his lips as Liam sinks in against him. They’re both too warm from sleep, mouths hot, and Drake guides Liam closer as he tangles their legs together even further.

It’s too much all at once, Liam on top of him, pressed up against him like that. Drake sucks in a deep breath when they break for air, trying to keep from losing it altogether.

“Jesus, Liam,” he murmurs, “If we do this now I’m not gonna be able to get out of bed for the rest of the day.”

“That’s the idea,” Liam kisses the underside of his jaw, hands already up under his shirt, too. Drake hisses as Liam straddles him, the friction too much. Liam’s everywhere at once, but when he looks up at Drake, lips against the hollow of his throat, his eyes are dead.

“Stop,” Drake says, pulling away. “I don’t — Liam, you’re fucked up. We can’t.”

“I need you,” Liam pleads, “I have to feel something good. Please.”

“ _This_ is good. You and me, right now.” Drake reaches up to Liam’s face, Liam leaning in against his hand. “You don’t need to get off, you need to _talk_.”

Tears well up in Liam’s eyes. “I think you’re the love of my life,” he says. “I’ll never be able to find this again.”

“What are you talking about?” Drake brushes his thumb along Liam’s cheek, “I’m right here. I’m with you ‘til the end.”

“Don’t say that,” Liam closes his eyes, but the tears escape anyway, Drake catching them on his fingertips as they fall down his face. “Just kiss me.”

“ _Liam_.”

Liam shakes his head, eyes still shut tight in vain against his tears. Drake’s never seen him this bad before, and it strikes a note of fear in his chest as his mind races, trying to figure out what to do. There had been other times, other incidents that brought Liam crashing in on himself, but nothing like this. Maybe the only thing that had been holding him together in those times was knowing he would never have to bear the full weight of the crown.

“How can I help?” Drake tries, pressing a kiss to Liam’s forehead, lips lingering against his skin. “What do you need from me?”

Liam slumps down against him, small and fragile like the night before, head resting in the crook of his neck. “Talk to me… talk to me about us. If everything was normal. If we weren’t…”

He trails off, but Drake knows how he means to finish his sentence. He finds Liam’s hand, threads their fingers together. “We’d get a place out on the coast. Learn to sail, for real this time. Take the boat out to all the places we’ve always wanted to see. Maybe we’d have a cabin out in Applewood for the winter, just enough for the two of us. An orchard in the back, too.”

“And in the summer?”

“That’s for the boat. Anywhere you want to go, just you and me. Maybe we start in Italy, up the Amalfi Coast, then Spain. I’ve always thought Spain would be cool. We can stay up late and watch the stars from the deck and I’ll teach you all the constellations my dad showed me.”

Liam’s eyes are still wet, his breathing shuddery and slow. “What about… would we have kids?”

“Oh, um…” Drake’s chest tightens at the thought. “I don’t — I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about… I mean, you know I’d —” Somehow his mouth can’t fit around the words, the knot in his heart growing larger. “I’d love to —”

Liam looks up at him, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Sorry, you don’t have to say anything.”

“No, I…” Drake fumbles for an answer, face burning, his pulse quickening at the thought of Liam in a house that was theirs, with a child that was theirs, in a life that was _theirs_.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he manages, flustered. “It’s just that I… I want _all_ those things with you. All the milestones, all the big stuff. I guess I just never really let myself think too much about it. Our lives… they’re so different, you know?”

Drake knows he’s said the wrong thing as soon as he looks at Liam. Whatever remnant of a smile had nestled in Liam’s features has faded away.

“I know,” Liam says, voice hollow.

“We’ll make it work,” Drake tries to reassure him, “You said I’m the love of your life, right? That’s… I mean, that’s _real_ , Liam. We’re real.”

Liam’s response might as well be an echo. “I know.”

“I love you,” Drake says, biting his lip.

Liam untangles himself from Drake, sitting up and rolling his shoulders back before pushing himself up and off the bed. He’s still wearing the remains of his clothes from last night, and when he looks out at the window, the light sends shadows over his vacant expression.

“I have to meet with the king,” he says, not looking back at Drake when he speaks. “I should get ready.”

“You’ve met with him constantly for weeks,” Drake sits up too, moving across the bed to rest a hand on Liam’s shoulder, a tentative invitation to return to him. “He can give you one day. One hour, even.”

Liam turns back to look at him, eyes dropping to his hand, then settling on his face. He reaches up to rest his own hand over Drake’s, ever so lightly curling his fingers in the spaces between.

“No,” he says, eyes wet all over again. “He can’t.”

—

Liam spends the week tied up in meetings that last long into the night, and more often than not he barely manages to collapse in some guest room nearby, let alone return to his own room in the east wing. To Drake.

They haven’t had much alone time since the abdication was finalized, apart from a few hurried conversations in the halls, fingers brushing as Liam passed. Losing him so abruptly feels like falling into the darkened water of the ocean all over again, reaching out towards his voice as the waves blur the words.

The story comes out as the days pass, in bits and pieces and whispered gossip. Liam confirms all the important parts: Leo had been joyriding a cruise over the summer and had gotten engaged on a whim to some American heiress, which he’s now using as leverage to actually forsake his birthright, something he had apparently wanted to do for years.

Liam tells Drake he’s met the girl, that she came for dinner (much to the displeasure of the king and queen) and was nice if not a bit dramatic, nothing like Leo’s usual type.

“This whole thing is just… bizarre,” Drake says, once they’ve finally stolen a few moments away in the gardens. “I mean he’s known her for what, a few months?”

“If that.” Liam is grim, seemingly the only countenance he wears ever since the official announcement to the country. “I know he’s never been a great brother, or even a good one, but I never thought… I can’t believe he would do this to me. He never even _warned_ me.”

“He’s a piece of shit,” Drake replies, “He knows it.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Liam looks off to the side, brow furrowed. “Maybe I should have.”

“He’s your brother. We all excuse our family’s faults.”

Liam puts a hand on his shoulder. “Speaking of family, have you heard from Savannah?”

Drake shakes his head. “Looks like we’re all alone, you and me.”

The irony of his statement only rings true the following day, when Olivia Nevrakis arrives at the palace shrouded in pomp and circumstance, shattering their tenuous solitude the same way her ancestors shattered bone. Drake’s never cared for her all that much, but she’s the closest thing to a sister that Liam has, and in the absence of his own, Drake understands how one might find her comforting.

Olivia has never been one for comfort, though she certainly seems to be trying at something like it; Liam has her set up in the room closest to the royal chambers, closer even than Drake’s.

He’s been spending a lot more time in that room, too. Liam had asked him to, soft in the morning after they finally got the chance to fall asleep together again, promising it would only be until the news of his ascension died down, just to keep any potential rumors at bay. He’d agreed, of course — he never could say no to Liam, especially not with the state he was in.

The first night Olivia’s there, Drake sees the light on in Liam’s room while he’s pacing the halls and chances a knock, hoping that maybe he’s finally not tied up in some matter of state. There’s a quiet exchange of voices from inside before someone opens the door.

It’s Olivia who answers, one hand on her hip, her hair twisted up in a bun. “It’s Drake,” she calls back to Liam, who is sitting in an armchair near the large bay window, looking defeated.

He glances up at the mention of Drake’s name, but he doesn’t smile. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I, um,” Drake shoves his hands in his pockets. “I saw the light, thought I’d… check on you.”

“He’s alright,” Olivia answers, still standing in the doorway. “He’s with me.”

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Drake retorts, shoving the door open wider with his foot and sidling past her. She frowns, but she merely crosses her arms and watches him make his way into the room, Liam standing up upon his approach.

“Sorry,” Liam says, voice lowered, “I should’ve told you I was out for the day. My father… he let me off of things early since Liv’s visiting.”

Drake smiles wryly. “She’s got a title, I should figure as much.”

Liam’s eyes dart over to her figure, now scrolling through something on her phone as she leans against the doorway. “Listen, I… I need to talk to her right now. I asked her to come here once she heard about Leo.”

“Nah, I get it,” Drake hazards a single touch against Liam’s wrist while Olivia is distracted. “She’s known you all your life. Probably more family than Leo is, at least after this mess.”

“Yeah,” Liam sighs. “She understands all this.”

“Should I come by later?” Drake pulls his hand back, wishing he could do more than just brush against his skin. Liam looks so broken, dimmed down just like after the assassination attempt, a shell of himself. He wants to kiss the life back in him, make him feel something that isn’t pain.

“No,” Liam glances over at Olivia again. “We’ll be fine.”

“I meant —”

“I just need to talk to her, Drake.” Liam voice rises slightly, and Olivia looks up from her phone. “I can’t —” He lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair before continuing, quieter again. “She _understands_ , you know?”

“Liam,” Drake whispers, wary of Olivia’s gaze. “It’s okay if you need me to lay low, I won’t blame you. I know I can’t be there for you how I want to right now. I don’t want this — with us — to be something else to worry about.”

“It’s not that,” Liam shakes his head, “You’re… it’s harder to explain all this to you.”

Drake pauses, letting the words sink in. “What, because I’m a  _peasant_?”

“I didn’t say that —”

“I’ve lived in the palace for _years_. I went to school with all the same asshole nobles as you, Liam. I know this world.”

“But you _don’t_ ,” Liam’s voice breaks. “And I never want you to have to. Let me protect you from this, okay?”

“We’re in this together,” Drake says, wishing he could take Liam’s hands, kiss across his fingers. “You don’t have to protect me from anything.”

Liam is shaking his head again, eyes downcast. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew.”

“Then _tell_ me, god damn it!”

Liam sucks in a sharp breath, head turning back to Olivia. She’s watching the two of them now, her expression difficult to read. When Liam turns to Drake again, his jaw is set. “Please don’t make this hard for me.”

“Make _what_ hard for you? You’re the one making everything so difficult right now.”

Olivia’s voice rings out over his. “I’ll walk you to your room, Drake. It’s the same place it’s always been, right?”

“I can walk myself,” Drake snaps, looking to Liam for support.

He says nothing.

Olivia crosses the room, grabbing Drake’s arm firmly and staring him straight in the eye. “I insist.”

She marches him back out to the hallway, the shock of Liam’s silence bringing him to submission. He barely even fights back against her iron grip on his wrist, so much so that after a few minutes she finally loosens her fingers and lets his arm fall back to his side, pausing in front of him to stare him down.

“What?” he asks flatly. “Am I not following your _grace’s_ orders well enough?”

“You’re always such an asshole,” she frowns, eyes surveying him with an uncomfortable intensity. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe you would have more than one friend if you weren’t a fun-sucking toad?”

“Better one friend than zero friends and a glorified igloo for a house.”

Olivia almost smiles. “Not bad.”

She resumes her pace just ahead of him, and for some reason he follows, head still swimming with Liam’s words. Liam had never talked to him like that before, like he didn’t belong. They always shared everything, came to each other for everything; this new distance makes him feel alone in a way he isn’t used to.

When Olivia stops in front of his door, he expects her to take her leave immediately. Instead, she lingers, hand on the doorknob, before turning back to him with a softer expression than her regular scowl.

“Does Liam know?” she asks.

“Know what?”

She breathes in, that scouring gaze back in her eyes. “That you’re in love with him.”

Drake stares at her, frozen. “ _What_?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she says, a sad crease across her brow, “I don’t have any friends _to_ tell, right? Besides, I… know the feeling.”

He’s speechless, struggling to find something to say. Their biggest secret, his biggest weakness… and the one person he would never trust with a single piece of his soul had seen right through it.

As if she can read his thoughts as well, she adds, “You can trust me.”

“I…” Drake fumbles for the right words. “It’s… I can’t…”

“Whatever,” Olivia sighs. “You can deny it if you want.”

Drake’s mouth is dry, this entire evening too much to take in. “He… he knows.”

Olivia raises an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

“I’m not gonna… this isn’t some slumber party bullshit, okay? I’m not going to have a heart to heart about it with you while you braid my hair.”

“What makes you think I know how to braid hair? I have staff for that.”

“Seriously, Olivia.”

She pokes a finger at him, right in the middle of his chest. “We’re more alike than you think, you and me. Doesn’t mean I give a shit about you and your horrible attitude, but I’m not everything you write me off as. I understand more than you know.”

“So it seems,” he sighs. “Look, is this your exit speech, or what? Because full offense, I’d like to go to bed.”

“Fine,” she steps back, lowering her hand. “Go back to your wet dreams about prince charming. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s never loved me, and now he can’t love you.”

It’s the first time anyone has said it, the one thing he’s feared ever since the news of Leo’s abdication had become a reality. Maybe it had always been hanging in the air between him and Liam, an unspoken fear that neither wanted to speak into being. Coming from Olivia, it feels starkly real.

“He _does_ love me,” Drake retorts bitterly, a futile attempt to bite back at the truth in her words. “You don’t know him like I know him.”

“Maybe not,” Olivia crosses her arms, “but you don’t know royalty like I know them.”

She leaves without a second thought, her footsteps fading down the hallway as she heads back in the direction of Liam’s room, where she will no doubt spend the rest of the night pretending her presence might coax him into her arms. Drake stands in front of his own door, unmoving, a weight settling in his chest like a stone.

—

The day after Olivia heads back to Lythikos, Liam slips into Drake’s room in the morning with marmalade toast and orange juice, his hair still damp from an early shower.

“I brought you breakfast,” he says gently, setting the dishes down on the side table closest to Drake, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. Drake rolls over to look at him, face still creased from sleep.

“What… why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Liam doesn’t meet his eyes. “I know I’ve been… busy. I missed you.”

Drake pulls himself up, resting on his elbows as he blinks up at Liam’s face. “Busy’s one word for it.”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel unappreciated,” Liam says, pursing his lips in thought. “I never meant to shut you out. I just… I never believed it would actually come to this. Dragging you down too… it didn’t seem fair.”

“You’d never drag me down,” Drake says, sitting all the way up so he can lean forward and take one of Liam’s hands in his. “We’re a team. Where you go, I go.”

Liam looks down at their hands. “I don’t want you to go here. Not to this place. Not you.”

He feels his stomach twist, a foreboding anxiety in his veins. “Liam, what are you talking about?”

Liam leans into him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that pulls the breath right out of him. Liam’s free hand twists into his hair, guiding them closer together, shifting himself fully onto the bed as he straddles Drake’s hips. Drake drops his hand, reaching up to cup Liam’s face desperately, tongue teasing across the seam of his lips.

Liam pulls back then, hand still threaded in Drake’s hair. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, eyes darting across Drake’s flushed face.

“I love you,” he says, an edge of something painful in his voice. “I always will.”

“Liam…” Drake feels the pitch of his voice rise, the twisting in his stomach moving slowly up his throat.

“I have to…” Liam drops to just above a whisper, blinking a bit too fast, “Drake, you know what happens, you saw it with Leo. I have to do the social season. I have to get married.”

“No.” Drake is shaking his head. “No, Liam, don’t do this.”

“I have to.”

“That’s bullshit.” Drake bites into his lip in an attempt to curb the stinging heat rising in his eyes. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You said we would be different. You _promised_ , you—” The tears come anyway, blurring his vision. “You told me you would fucking pick _me_.”

“I…” Liam looks away from him, pained. “I shouldn’t have said those things, I didn’t know any better, I thought… I thought we _could_ be different.” When he looks back up, he’s crying too. “Drake, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“What else did you lie about then?” Drake demands, letting his hands fall. “What’s _real_ , Liam?”

“This,” Liam insists, leaning in so their foreheads are touching. “You and me. We’re real, we always have been. I’ll love you until the day I die.”

“Don’t fucking say that shit,” Drake pulls away from him, and Liam’s face falls even more than it already has. “You’re just — you’re going to marry some girl from one of those awful noble houses, parade her around like she’s the goddamn Queen because she _will_ be. She actually will be. And I’ll be — what? Some friend you used to have, some guy she asks to take out her trash?”

“Never,” The tears cut down Liam’s face faster than he can try to blink them away. “You’re my whole heart.”

“Then why are you _doing_ this?”

“What am I supposed to do, Drake?” Liam sounds desperate. “What do you expect me to do?”

“Marry _me_ ,” Drake says, his voice breaking.

Liam lets out a shuddery breath, squeezing his eyes closed. Drake leans back towards him, resting his forehead against Liam’s, one hand moving up to rub his shoulder gently. Liam relaxes slightly under his touch, and Drake lets his fingers run down the soft skin of his arm and back up again, over and over until Liam reaches up to his face, resting his thumb along Drake’s cheekbone. The paths of his tears still linger and Liam runs his thumb over them in a futile attempt to rub them away.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Liam whispers. “I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“What if we run away?” Drake tries, knowing the answer already but still frantically pulling at even the most baseless strings of hope. “We can go to America, change our names, stay with my mom. It’s not Applewood, but we can make it work. You know we’ve always made it work.”

“Not this time,” Liam says.

He kisses Drake, lips melding in against his, tears mingling with his own.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs against his mouth, the words like water — drowning them all over again. “I wanna wake up with you forever. You’re my everything, you’re my world.”

“Shut up,” Drake says, his voice breaking, lips numb against Liam’s. “Shut up.”

“I don’t know how not to love you,” Liam whispers, pulling back just enough to meet Drake’s eyes, vision blurred with tears. “You’re the only thing I’m sure of. I wish I was half the man you make me want to be.”

“ _Fuck_ , Liam,” Drake wipes roughly across his eyes with the back of his hand. “Just stop talking. Stop talking, okay?”

In answer, Liam grabs him by the back of the neck and tugs him forward, shifting his hips closer as their mouths meet almost drunkenly. The places where their faces touch feel raw, stung with salt like the ocean air. Drake digs his fingers in at Liam’s hips, then lower, wrapping around the back of his thighs and pulling him as close as he possibly can. When Liam breathes in against him, it comes out more like a gasp.

“You’re mine,” Drake says, voice low as he catches Liam’s eyes. “None of those fucking suitors could make you feel like this.”

“I know,” Liam whispers, looking at him heavy-lidded, “I know.”

“Tell me,” Drake kisses roughly along his jaw, teeth scraping the skin of his neck. Liam’s hands fall down Drake’s back to clutch at his shirt. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I’m —” Liam’s breath hitches, Drake’s hands sliding under his shirt, lifting the hem. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, all of me — Drake, _god_.”

Drake has already tugged Liam’s shirt over his head, looking up at him in awe all over again: dark hair mussed across his forehead, lips just as flushed as his cheeks, tears still clinging to his eyelashes.

Drake presses a hand to the muscles of his abdomen, biting his lip when Liam makes a soft sound at his touch. “You’re so fucking sexy Liam.  _Jesus_ , I could lose it just looking at you.”

He reaches for his own shirt, pulling it up and over his head, Liam’s hands in his hair the second he’s free, kissing him messy and deep as their hips come together. Drake reaches back down to Liam’s thighs, already tight around his waist, his hands moving up to undo the button on Liam’s shorts.

“Drake,” Liam sucks in a sharp breath, leaning his head away just enough to meet his eyes. “We can’t, I have to —”

“If you’re going to break up with me,” Drake hisses, “You might as well fuck me first.”

“ _Drake_.”

“You don’t want to?”

“Of course I —” Liam bites his lip, lowering his voice to barely above a growl. “You _know_ I want to.”

“Then do it.” Drake guides Liam’s hands to the front of his own shorts, never breaking eye contact. “Fucking do it.”

In an instant, Liam twists to grab Drake’s wrists, pushing him back against the headboard and pinning them at his sides. He’s still got a knee on either side of Drake, leaning in against him, and when he pulls his lower lip between his teeth it’s all Drake can do to keep from letting out an obscene sound.

“I can’t,” Liam says, locking eyes with Drake, his gaze electric.

“Do it,” Drake seethes, pushing back against Liam’s grip on his wrists. “Tell me I’m yours. Make me yours.”

“I _can’t_.”

This time each word is punctuated with the rise and fall of Liam’s chest, breath ragged as his eyes rake over Drake’s face desperately, searching for an out. They both know there isn’t one.

“But I want you to,” Drake answers, surprised at how small he sounds, how vulnerable. “ _Please_ , Liam…”

Liam shakes his head, and Drake feels the hot swell of tears in his eyes again as the realization settles on him like a stone.

“I want you,” he says one last time, voice barely a whisper.

“You have me,” Liam breathes, his grip on Drake’s wrists loosening. “You always will.”

“Stop lying, Liam,” Drake closes his eyes. “Just stop.”

He can feel the tears leak out and cut their way down his face, the chill that hits when Liam lets him go, sitting back onto the comforter.

“I’m — I don’t mean to lie, I just… I don’t know what else to say. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Drake doesn’t speak, biting his lip as hard as he can.

“I’ve never… I’m lost here, I can only do my best and even that… it’s never enough, I know, but I’m trying. You have to believe me, I’m trying.”

Liam’s voice breaks then too, sharp and jagged like broken glass. “I can’t do this without you, I can’t do it with you — I have no idea what I’m _doing_ , Drake.”

“You’re ruining it,” Drake says bitterly. “You’re ruining everything, that’s what you’re doing. You’re fucking this all up.”

He opens his eyes, bleary and burning, anger surging up like a wave until the sight of Liam before him sends it crashing back down. He looks the same way he did when Drake first came back from college: broken and empty, eyes dark with knowledge no one his age should ever have, tears streaming down his face. Drake feels a pang of guilt in his chest, making Liam look like that. Making Liam _feel_ like that.

He may be the future king, but behind that façade of royalty he’s really just a boy, terrified of being alone.

“Oh Liam,” Drake pushes himself up and crawls forward, pulling Liam to him in a hug and wrapping his arms around him so tightly it hurts. “Liam, _Liam_ — I’m sorry, I’m such a dick, I’m such a selfish asshole — I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Liam presses his face into the crook of Drake’s neck, clinging to him desperately. Drake keeps talking, all the anger melting away as he feels Liam’s shoulders heave. “You’re never gonna do this alone, I promise. I’ll be here the entire time. I’m not leaving you, I’m staying with you as long as you need me. I’ll be the best man at your wedding if I have to, okay? Fuck, Liam, I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

They stay like that for so long Drake loses track of time. Minutes, hours? It doesn’t matter — he stays, wrapped around Liam heartbeat-to-heartbeat, holding up the weight of the crown like a poor man’s Atlas. His shirt is damp with tears, his voice hoarse from soothing whispers as he rubs slow circles in Liam’s back. “I’ve got you. Shh, I’ve got you.”

Liam finally stills in his arms, hands clutching the back of Drake’s shirt. Drake presses a kiss to the top of his head, stroking his hair gently as Liam takes a deep breath before resting his head against Drake’s chest.

“You are the love of my life,” he says. “You always will be.”

Drake swallows hard. “Can we still… can I still see you? Before everything officially starts?”

“Not like this,” Liam lifts his head, looking up at Drake with watery eyes. “It’ll hurt too much.”

Drake nods, the weight of it almost unbearable. “I know.”

Liam sits up straighter in his arms, cupping Drake’s face and leaning in against his forehead. “Will you let me kiss you one last time?”

In response, Drake pulls him in by the back of his neck, lips soft at first before the gravity of the moment sets in and they both press in with more urgency, more passion, trying to fit years of what-ifs into a single moment. Drake doesn’t even stop to breathe, lightheaded but drawing Liam in as close as he can, desperate to keep him there as long as possible. As if maybe, if he kisses him enough, he’ll change his mind.

But deep down he knows it was never Liam’s choice to make.

Liam sits back, breathing hard, looking at Drake like he’s the only thing worth seeing. “I’ll try to stay away, if… if it helps.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Drake answers, running a hand through his hair. “But if you need me… look, I’m always here for you.”

Liam nods, slowly, breaking their gaze so he can get up from the bed, rolling his shoulders back as he stands up. “Thank you.”

It’s oddly formal, this exchange between them, and the pain that it leaves is like being cut with a dull blade. Liam looks back at Drake only once before he opens the door, raising one hand in a wave. They both know that if they say anything now, they’ll fall back into each other. Drake forces a smile.

When the door shuts, he reaches for Liam’s shirt — still discarded among the sheets, the last remnant of Them — pulls it over his head, and buries himself in the bedding.


End file.
